


trust me (i know what i'm doing)

by ronsenboobi (snewvilliurs)



Category: Thor (Comics), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Gen, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Light-Hearted, Minor Sif/Thor (Marvel), Pre-Thor (2011), actual tactician sif, the gang when they were younger
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-18
Updated: 2018-06-18
Packaged: 2019-05-25 02:08:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14966840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snewvilliurs/pseuds/ronsenboobi
Summary: “I may have an idea,” she said at last. “It’s a very bad one.”It's simple: Sif invented "Get Help." (No specific canon past theThor: Ragnarokreferences; comics-friendly, with a small nod to the movie at the end.)





	trust me (i know what i'm doing)

**Author's Note:**

> a silly thought i had while watching _ragnarok_ and that [had to become a thing](http://ronsenboobi.tumblr.com/post/174779157626/i-made-this-offhanded-remark-while-watching).

“We’re outnumbered,” said Thor.

“You don’t say,” said Loki.

“Shut up,” said Sif.

The three of them were huddled together on their bellies through the tall grass, a mere stone’s throw away from the facility—quite literally so, for Thor had tossed a rock towards the left wing of the building and watched with meek surprise as it chipped the corner of one wall. Sif had dragged the brothers down as soon as she heard the noise, and it was only a matter of waiting now to see whether the guards would think to climb the rise and find three young Asgardians who, she was beginning to tell herself, were much too stupid to have been sent on such a mission.

If Thor and Loki started bickering now, they were as good as dead. As entertaining as it could be on good days, on bad days it was a severe annoyance; and on a day like this, it was a threat. Sif refused to die because Odin’s sons couldn’t keep their mouths shut.

“You’re the clever one, Loki,” Thor whispered. “What’s the strategy?”

“Go home and keep breathing,” Loki said.

Sif watched the guards’ rotation. There were ten at least on this side, too close to each other to be picked off one by one but too spread out for a full assault to do some real damage. These had to be good pirates, if they had managed to single-handedly capture a building full of very important, very squishy elves. She was beginning to very seriously question their odds, and when she was impatient with helplessness, she could be daring to an unwise degree.

“I may have an idea,” she said at last. “It’s a very bad one.”

“Better than going home,” Thor said, and Sif felt a jolt as one of the brothers kicked the other. She could not tell which, and she was not about to start an investigation.

“Which one of you is the lightest?”

Thor snorted. “That’s funny.”

“The big dumb one is right,” said Loki. Sif didn’t have to look to know he was rolling his eyes, but she turned her gaze to him anyway.

“Think you could maintain one of your illusions while, say, being thrown?”

“I don’t like the sound of that.”

“I like it,” Thor said, turning to beam at Sif.

“You get thrown, then,” Loki hissed for want of being able to raise his voice.

Thor shrugged, and Sif took a moment to look him over—perhaps a tad longer than necessary, for she rather enjoyed the view—before shrugging as well. “Sure, I can throw him.”

She pushed herself up from her belly so that she was crouching in the grass, Thor following suit, and nudged Loki’s shoulder. “Do your magic thing so that I look like a peasant girl.”

It was strange to see her own appearance change with the slightest glimmer of magic as she looked to see her greaves turn to muddy bare feet, her armour to a shapeless grey shift. No detail was spared, even down to the dirt underneath her fingernails. When she glanced at Loki to give him a satisfied nod, he was already smiling smugly.

“So, how do you want to do this?” Thor asked, rubbing his hands together.

“Just look unwell and follow my lead,” Sif said to him, then turned to Loki once again. “Be ready. All-out assault the moment Thor hits the ground.”

She and Thor knocked their forearms together and she hoisted his arm over her shoulders and slipped hers around his back; he began slumping against her as they came down the hill, warm and heavy against her. By the time they were in sight of the guard, she was all but holding him up and dragging him forward. She turned her voice shrill and desperate.

“Somebody help, please! The crown prince of Asgard is dying!”

The guards were thrown off their rhythm, hesitant and disorganized as they came towards the pair of them; Sif waited until five of them were huddled together and lifted Thor up off his feet, launching him at the guards. In the blink of an eye, the illusion faded; she lifted her shield and guarded Thor as he rolled away and got to his feet, Loki’s knives whistling through the air before lodging themselves in two guards who were lunging at them.

Sif spun and slashed her sword in a wide arc, Thor’s laughter ringing in her ears as they fought—for a moment, she thought she saw Loki smiling in the midst of the fray, too. Soon, they had neutralized the threat, finished their mission, and Sif was grinning as she tossed her braid over her shoulder and wiped the blood from her sword.

“Told you that would work.”

“You said yourself it was a very bad idea,” Loki said flatly. “I am literally quoting you.”

“What matters is we’re alive and I was right.”

*******

“We’re going to die,” Loki said, panting, as he and Sif ducked together behind a half-wall. “They’re going to find us and kill us.”

“You are such a cynic. Come on; our best hope is to do that thing I did, with the pirates.”

“What thing?”

Sif made a vague gesture. “You know, the one where you pretend to be unwell while I yell ‘get help!’ and throw you when they've all funneled to us. That thing.”

“I'm not doing that,” Loki said immediately.

“You're being petulant for no reason.”

“Why don't I throw you, then?”

Sif laughed as quietly as she could, throwing her head back and grabbing his forearm as he did. He looked down at it as though he had never been touched in his life.

“There is no version of this universe where you can lift me and _throw_ me.”

“If I let you do this, you’re going to owe me.”

“You were prepared to die just a moment ago, so technically, you’re going to owe me your life. I rather think we’ll be more than even.”

Loki emphatically rolled his eyes and dropped the illusion of the peasant girl on Sif without ceremony or effort. “Let’s just get on with it.”

“Do you say that to all the girls?” she asked, grinning as she put his arm around her shoulders and helped him to his feet.

Loki didn’t know which he hated most: the aspect of being thrown unceremoniously into their enemies like a sack of flour, or the fact that it _worked_. There was the smug grin on Sif’s face as she stood over him while he rolled off the unconscious guards under him, too, that he found to be particularly maddening. He brushed off the hand she offered to help him rise and pushed himself to his feet, then swatted at her again as she made to dust off his coat.

“Let’s not do that again.”

*******

“How did you manage to get through that entire base by yourselves?” Balder asked Thor one night as they drank to their most recent victory. Out of the seven of them, he was the only one without bruises, scrapes, or at least one limb that would not collaborate for the rest of the night. “I was worried when you charged off on your own like that.”

“The lady Sif is a much better tactician than you all credit her with,” Thor said proudly, dropping a heavy hand on Sif’s shoulder.

Loki grimaced. “Don’t tell me you’re _still_ doing that ‘get help’ trick at your age.”

“Who are you to turn your nose up at tricks, Loki?” Fandral asked, grinning as widely as ever even with a split lip.

“The difference is that my tricks don’t involve—you know what, never mind. I’m not arguing with any of you tonight.”

Sif hooked her arm around Thor’s shoulders and raised her tankard towards Loki. “He feels jealous that I’ve unseated him as Asgard’s master of strategy.”

“Untrue. I only think it uncouth, as you and Thor are wont to be,” Loki said simply.

“He also doesn’t like that it involves his and Thor’s princely persons being thrown,” Sif said, and Volstagg laughed.

“Thrown? Now I want to see that trick.”

“Why don’t _you_ get thrown, for once, Sif?” Loki said.

Sif shrugged and glanced at Thor. “Shall we demonstrate, my prince?”

“Gladly, my lady,” Thor said, getting to his feet.

They all went outside the tavern into the deserted street—some on steadier feet than others—and Thor instructed his friends to pretend they were guards, making vague drunken gestures as he and Sif disappeared behind a corner. Loki did not join Balder and the Warriors Three, instead choosing to watch from the sidelines, sipping from his drink with an effortlessly bored expression and rolling his eyes when Thor and Sif rounded the corner, both heavily invested in their roles.

Thor played the fool well, with Sif looking so unwell he seemed to be the only thing keeping her on her feet; there was at least some enjoyment to be had in watching him toss her into the pack of Balder, Fandral, Volstagg and Hogun, all five of them tumbling over in a heap. Volstagg’s laughter was the only distinctive thing about the pile.

“See? It works!” Thor said joyfully.

Sif was the first to her feet, quick as a cat and as agile as though she had not spent the entire day fighting. She flipped her hair back from her face and walked towards Loki, plucking the goblet from his hands and taking a sip.

“I don’t see what you’re complaining about,” she said, leaning with an arm over his shoulder while Thor gripped the other and shook him happily. “It is quite fun, actually.”

Loki rolled his eyes again.

*******

“Hey, let’s do ‘Get Help,’” said Thor.

“What?” said Loki.

“‘Get Help.’”

“No.”

“Come on, you love it.”

_Sif. You’re thinking of Sif. Sif loves it._ “I hate it.”


End file.
